


Less than Ideal Conditions

by hannahrhen



Series: Frostiron Fluff [4]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Intersex Loki, M/M, Soul Bond, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 07:03:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1142980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahrhen/pseuds/hannahrhen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki is avoiding him, but Tony can’t believe it’s because of what they did a few days earlier. Loki, embarrassed about sex? Impossible, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Less than Ideal Conditions

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely connected to the [Here Comes Your Man](http://archiveofourown.org/series/61591) series, in which Tony and Loki are soulmates. **Additional warning applies** (note at end), but if you’ve read my other Frostiron, it’s nothing you haven’t seen 1 billion times.

Tony wasn’t imagining it:

Loki, god of lies, god of mischief, god of kinky sex, and—amen to all that—Tony’s soulmate, was avoiding him.

Yes, the tower was big, and Loki had free reign of it. Or, mostly free: After the quiet evacuation the year before, during their “break,” Tony had slowly moved some of the offices back in and invited Widow, Steve, Bruce, and Barton to their rooms with an awkward “mea culpa.”

So, there were places Loki probably wouldn’t go in the tower, but he was managing to find every nook, cranny, and hidey-hole not otherwise occupied to … just not see Tony. It was weirdly like those first days, after the bonding, when Loki strategically avoided him.

And Tony would have been more worried, maybe, if he thought he had done something wrong, or if he were picking any emotion up from Loki other than …

Embarrassment? Not a native emotion to Tony Stark, usually, but he knew of it. Was aware of its existence. Hypothetically.

Whatever—it didn’t jell. Okay, there were other feelings swirled into it, ribbons of disbelief, anticipation, and even a persistent, low-grade contentment, and these all assured Tony he hadn’t totally screwed something up. And forgotten it. Somehow.

Loki wasn’t unhappy; he was just kind of …

Mortified.

Thor wasn’t around to intervene, something Tony was grateful for. Pushing the Thunder Bastard out of their relationship wasn’t easy, but they’d both committed to working on it after Loki had walked in on Tony getting ( _unsolicited! promise!_ ) sexytimes advice from Loki’s older brother.

And, hell, that was just awkward. Even more awkward that the advice was something akin to “take it slow with him, Man of Iron, for he is delicate,” and Tony was the one who had to mediate after his dainty god had thrown a table at Thor’s head, called him curses packed so densely they could have collapsed into a new black hole, and begun a spell that would have tied Thor’s tongue in a literal knot.

“Delicate.” Yeah, Thor needed to butt the hell out.

Tony padded across the living room toward the kitchen island, still determined not to hunt down his blushing bride until Loki sent clear signals he wanted to be found. As he pulled out a barstool, though, and settled in to do some work, he suddenly had a flash of memory, and—

NO.

—what?

_No!_

That couldn’t be what Loki was embarrassed about.

. _.. that?_

The god of “I’ve fucked in more positions than your artificial intelligence can calculate, Stark?” The king of “kissing me after putting your tongue in my arse is only vulgar if you have a schoolboy’s sensibilities, Stark?”

How could Loki—?

Well, okay, that scene, five days earlier? Had a gotten a little raunchy. But what could Tony have been expected to do at that moment, faced with his tall, gorgeous, helluva lay who, for no particular reason, suddenly had a space between his legs where his cock and balls had been? A perfectly formed, womanly … uh …

He sank down onto the—um—THE barstool.

God, that was a nice memory.

Tony had been able to tell something was different, when he’d seen Loki in just this spot a few days earlier. The man had been shifting from foot to foot, clearly horny and impatient—a look Tony loved and knew exactly what to do about. Tony had taken pity on him—that’s what it was, pity—and drew him close to kiss, but the lack of a hard dick against his belly had been the first clue.

The second clue? Sliding his fingers into Loki’s dark linen trousers to find him slick and swollen and split open.

The kiss had broken off as Tony groaned and rested his forehead against Loki’s jawline, skull vibrating a bit from Loki’s chuckle. “Do you like it, Stark? I made it just for you.” He kissed Tony’s temple, then, and Tony felt him smile wide. “Actually, I made it for myself. But I’m willing to share.”

And Tony had reared up with a “why, you tricky little—” and pulled Loki back into a sloppy kiss with one hand around the back of his neck, while the other slid fingers in deep and just felt around.

Got  _the lay of the land_ , so to speak.

Loki had pulled back with a pleased sound.

“I’m not—,” Tony tried again. “I can’t—” Struck stupid by his magical, dirty lover, again. Time for revenge. He made a broken hum in the back of his throat as two fingers stroked along Loki’s warm inner lips and then retreated to feel for the—oh, yeah, there it was. Perfect, fat, perky little clit, pushing up under his touch and happy for the attention. Loki shivered, and his arms tensed where they held Tony’s waist.

Tony thought about his bedroom, too far away. He thought about the sofa, close and ready, but—

Didn’t want to examine it too closely, but the thought of the warm, gripping hole waiting for him, the sight of Loki’s smug grin just above his line of sight … it made him want to push and bend and have.

“I need to—oh.” With a last firm pass over the erect nub, and savoring Loki’s new little noise, the faltering of that smile, Tony pulled his damp hand out long enough to yank over the nearest barstool.

Yeah, fuck the sofa. “I’m not— I’m not waiting. Right here.” He waved clumsily. “Over that. I want you over that.” Ignored Loki’s raised eyebrow and got to work on his own belt instead. Only gave Loki his full attention again, furtively, when the god turned away and began to take down his own pants and boxers. Watched Loki adjust the barstool and, with a last, suggestive look over his shoulder, slowly—very slowly—bend his body low over it. The stool’s height was perfect, and Loki’s upper chest just rested on it as he held himself in place with long arms.

Tony stepped up behind him.

He wasn’t able to hold back the appreciative grunt as Loki’s new sex, just beneath his always-heavenly ass, was presented to Tony’s view. The whole lovely, fuckable picture was framed by the waist of Loki’s pants, now pushed down to mid-thigh, and the white tails of his shirt that curled over his lower back. And Tony wasn’t able to hold back from further exploration, as he ran fingers and a thumb from one hand over the pink, tender folds and that tiny bud of—

“Stark.” Impatient, of course.

Yeah, he could get his cock out fast, if necessary—and around Loki it was almost always necessary. Gave thought to the awkwardness of Loki’s position, bent over a barstool, for fuck’s sake, and braced with one arm around its leg while the other held onto the edge of the countertop for support. He had obviously thought too long—not more than a few seconds, but long enough—because Loki turned and hissed at him. “Are you going to get on with it?” Wiggled his ass—that pretty new mouth that would soon be welcoming Tony inside—for good measure.

Oh, God, like he could— Like he was going to miss this opportunity to—

Yeah, no—he needed to check this shit out. Continued exploring Loki’s newest assets with his hands—both hands. Felt the wired hair around Loki’s entrance before dipping two fingers further in, where his path was eased. He was so wet already, so engorged, Loki must have started leaking as soon as he’d transformed himself—as soon as he began to anticipate what Tony was going to—

Tony couldn’t help a little tease: “Baby, are you feeling needy?”

“Obviously!” was the retort, as Loki squirmed over the seat. Tony’s fingers had gone deep, almost to the end of the line, where the head of Tony’s dick would bump and bully, and his cock pulsed when he felt the channel tighten and grip him, Loki trying to draw him in, to hold on. So much like Loki’s ass, but more giving and flexible and—

“Stark!” Yeah, that was the response when Tony stretched out his fingers inside, his thumb separating to Loki’s joystick unerringly and beginning a gentle rub just around the the head, rhythm nice and smooth with Loki’s copious arousal.

“That’s good, right there,” he assured, fingers following as Loki tried to shift away from the manipulation (too much?), and he closed his free hand over a bony hip to thwart his escape. “Gave me all the best toys to play with, didn’t you?” Smirked at Loki’s gasp after a particularly deep stroke. “Next time,” he pressed down—in—and felt more fluid surge from Loki’s passage. He bent low to Loki’s ear and spoke quietly as he massaged that quivering flesh. “Next time, will you give me a pretty pair of tits to play with, baby?” He hummed through the broken noise Loki made—probably involuntary, and all the better for it. “A big pair of tits that I can squeeze while I fuck you, that I can suck nice and hard … ”

Loki jerked back against Tony, pressing—by accident or design—Tony’s hard cock against the lower curve of his ass. Three fingers this time pushed into Loki’s cunt, spread him wide as he watched the rosy flesh clenching around him glisten. Kept going: “But, just to be clear, I want your dick back at the end of it.”

At that, Loki laughed. Managed: “I would never—never give up having you on your hands and knees and speared on my cock, Stark,” but the arrogance was all show as Loki writhed over the leather cushion of the stool. He grunted again as Tony withdrew his fingers and admired the strand of liquid arousal that chased them from the seam of Loki’s body. God, Loki was really gushing, hot little babe that he was—always ready to go.

Male or female.

Both.

_God._

Tony’s attention snapped back at Loki’s retort: “But that’s— That’s not what we’re doing here, now, is it, Stark?” Made to push himself up, which Tony stopped with a firm hand on the back of his neck.

“Down, boy.” Tony was thinking, so, to buy himself time, he pulled back a little and gave Loki’s ass a quick spank. Loki would lie in a heartbeat about liking it, but Tony could feel the dark approval that flared up in the moment after his hand fell.

Yeah, he thought so. But, he’d save that exploration for another day. After all, there was something else to be done here—awkward and maybe a little weird, but most of Tony’s best ideas were. “You want my cock, baby? Well, I want to see how you take it, in that tight hole of yours.” Reached over for the neighboring barstool and tugged it over. Used a foot to drag one of Loki’s pants-legs free from his ankle. “Let’s see how flexible you are.”

And Loki, yeah, groaned as Tony encouraged his knee up to the seat of the second barstool, as Tony spread Loki wide and forced him up on his toes to make the reach. It looked uncomfortable—it was uncomfortable, Tony could feel—but the thought of twisting Loki how Tony wanted him only ramped up his want. And Loki was giving off the same dark pleasure as when Tony smacked his ass—the same dark pleasure Tony would deny feeling when Loki collared him and demanded he crawl.

Oh, God. That was—

Shook his head and focused on the task at hand. “That’s nice—now I can really see you, baby,” Tony breathed. “Nice and stretched out and open. Gives me a perfect place to aim for, your little landing strip.” Warmed more at Loki’s chuckle, then kept on because he could tell this was really working on the other—felt the feedback just as much as he could watch Loki’s hole clench.

“Look at how pink you are—and so wet, you’re just gushing. You want me so bad it’s just pouring out of you, isn’t it? Oh, I’m just going to slide right in. Probably barely be able to feel it, you little slut.” Watched Loki’s spine twist as the god reacted to the words, saw him claw into the countertop edge again. “Yeah, that’s it. You’re my little whore, aren’t you?” Tony continued, returning his hands to his new favorite place and spreading Loki wide. “Let’s have some fun. Tell me how much you want it. Tell me how much you want me in your little—” Oh, yeah, okay. “— _quim_.”

Tony could hear the intake of Loki’s breath, could feel the god warring between fighting the taunting words and … oh, yeah—giving in. “Stark, you—”

Hm, a little feistier than Tony wanted him at this moment. So he gave Loki another smack in warning. Loki growled in reaction, but Tony felt another brushback of that thick, hidden pleasure.  _Liar._

“Mm.” And Tony didn’t know where it came from—didn’t know why Loki-with-a-cunt made Tony just want to defile the hell out of him (all ass-to-mouth experience aside), but he couldn’t help himself. So: “No, baby—tell me how much you want my cock in your hot little cootch, Loki. Tell me or I’ll just leave you empty  and dripping all over my nice floor.”

And Loki sagged at that. “You’re disgusting,” he said, but with more breathiness than actual ire. Took a few breaths before managing, “Fine,” with a huff. “I want it.”

Not convincing. Tony plunged a thumb back in, listened to the sound of Loki’s sopping walls clenching around him. “You want what, baby?”

At the prompt, Loki’s back arched and curved, and Tony felt the barriers breaking down inside Loki’s mind—the need, the arousal building up to a peak that would free Loki’s silver tongue. And, so: “I want your cock, Stark—please. Give it to me.” He hung his head down, hair already curling from sweat and voice near to breaking. “Fuck me, please. Tony.”

He ran a palm across the back of Loki’s lifted thigh, caressed the inside of his knee before sweeping back. “That’s it, Loki. That’s all I wanted to hear.” And Loki was boneless where he was draped. A picture of need. Tony took his own cock in hand, tensing a little at the touch—yeah, it was time to get down to business. To put both of them out of their miseries (but especially Loki, and if Tony hadn’t already been in love with Loki’s “gift,” he would be after seeing Loki melt from a little teasing).

He lined himself up, tugged Loki’s lips wide with this thumbs, and pushed in.

Oh.  _Ohhh._

Loki’s moan as Tony slid home was musical, and he felt that convulsive tightening inside, and Tony would have—would have smiled if it hadn’t felt so fucking—

God.

Okay, inside, Loki felt like every other woman Tony had been with, warm and snug around his cock, and, oh, God, so … so … It was—a little disorienting, and something he honestly never thought he’d feel again, and it was … it was so good. Loki, bent and twisted over bar furniture, grunting and clawing at the metal legs of the stool and marble of the counter, panting for Tony to “fuck me.  _Fuck me,_  Stark.”

… And, so, yeah, Tony hadn’t been able to hold on for much longer after that, just a few hard thrusts, and coming inside Loki’s hole—any hole of Loki’s—was something Tony Stark excelled at. He dug his fingers sharp into hipbones, bent low over Loki’s back, and growled out that overwhelming pleasure as he turned himself inside out deep within Loki’s body.

That hadn’t been the end of it, of course. He’d staggered back upright after climax, only to have Loki turn on him with urgency—and a huge amount of frustration, which—”Oh, sorry.” He’d selfishly not found a way to work his fingers over Loki’s sweet nub while they were fucking—he’d always kind of sucked at it with women, anyway, and usually made up for it afterward by rubbing them or spreading them open and—

Christ, Loki’s vagina had thrown him for a loop, dammit!

But, yeah, not good enough, and Loki had grabbed him by the collar and dragged him to the sofa, kicking off his remaining pants-leg and tossing away his shirt as they went. He’d thrown himself back on the sofa cushions, and, with an arch of his back and spreading his legs very wide, directed, “You’re going to lick me now, Stark, until I come.” Cupped the back of Tony’s head as it dipped down, and gave it a pointed shove in the right direction.  _“Twice.”_

And that had been it, and Tony had amazing memories of Loki’s haughty look as Tony had tongued his own come as it dripped from Loki’s pungent sex.

So.

Now.

Loki was avoiding him. And embarrassed. It had started not long after they had cleaned up, and Tony wasn’t an idiot. So, about … what, exactly? They’d done kinkier shit, by anyone’s definition. (You take two assholes with explosive egos and control issues, and someone is pretty much always going to be holding a boot out for licking. Or, you know—the collar. The crawling. Sometimes all three.) And Loki didn’t feel angry, or disappointed, or anything else that would have suggested Tony had fucked that up bad.

It wasn’t until day five, when Loki obviously—obviously—planned to stay the night in Thor’s currently-empty rooms, instead of creeping back into their own bed to sleep, that Tony knew he had had enough.

Sneaking up on Loki wasn’t really possible given their connection—Loki no doubt had felt the change in Tony’s intentions, from puzzlement to irritation to determination. So Tony just stopped at the doorframe to Thor’s bedroom  _(not happy about this, Loki)_  and leaned against the wood, arms crossed. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

Loki was sitting up in the middle of the bed, knees up and ankles crossed. He was surrounded by papers, and a journal he apparently had been writing in. What Tony wouldn’t give to— But, no, he hadn’t sneaked up on Loki, and the look Tony got was—really? Sheepish?

Tony rolled his eyes and threw his arms out. “Come on.”

Loki offered a half-hearted smile. He pulled his knees in tighter to his body. “Something has happened.” And then Tony felt something else, a tiny pulse of worry, and—

He stepped into the room. “Come on—what is it? Did I do—”

Faltered at the words, but Loki’s reply was quick: “No!” A little too quick, and so followed by a little “yes,” hissed low. He stretched his legs out and leaned back on his arms. “Yes, you did,” he said, nodding his head, eyes closed and expression resigned as much as anything.

“What did I—”

Loki’s eyes snapped open and fixed Tony with a glare. “I’m pregnant.”

And Tony’s sentence slid seamlessly into an “oh”—a long syllable that took him through a series of conflicting reactions. The words didn’t cohere into anything that wouldn’t get him immediately killed, so he shook his head to clear it and went for the facts. “How did—,” and then another, “Oh.”

The facts—Loki had a vag.

And Tony fucked it.

Thoroughly.

Thoroughly, _thoroughly_  fucked it.

Oh, Jesus.

“You’re … sure?” Tony asked, and, yeah, it was a cliché, but he could do the math and had more than one two-week wait for a pregnancy test after something broke or was, you know, forgotten. This was a little—

The eye-roll—yep, there was Loki, at least. “Yes, I know,” he said, and Tony thought, “Oh, hooray, magic,” kind-of insincerely. He studied the man, who only looked down at his hands, then at the books and paper spread around. Stepped closer and saw human—humanoid—figures with arrows and captions. Bio 101 textbooks, maybe.

 _What to Expect When You’re Expecting a Frost Giant-Midgardian Hybrid,_  maybe.

Tony looked back up when Loki spoke again. “It didn’t occur to me— This didn’t occur to me.” His gesture took in the papers over the bed and his own abdomen. His fingers tapped into the bedding.

Despite the screeching madhouse in his own mind, Tony took pity on him. “Not on purpose, huh? Weren’t going for fully-functional?”

Loki laughed, then, and Tony watched with fascination as his cheeks colored. Loki huffed a “no,” then: “Apparently I didn’t anticipate the effects of a soul bond when I—”

Silence. Yeah, there wasn’t much else for him to say after that.

Wow. Tony knocked up a god. A male god.

Damn. He could hardly be blamed for being a little—just a little—impressed with himself.

Loki was now looking off, face still flushed and mouth twisted. He looked … delicate.  _(Goddammit, Thor.)_  Tony moved toward the bed, and it hurt when Loki shifted away from him, sending back that little ping of anxiety. Then, of course, Tony’s hurt rebounded and—

Oh, God, this shit again.

 _“STOP.”_  Not again. “What are you—” Paused and started over as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “Are you really unhappy about this? Why?” Which set off his own bad mojo. But it wasn’t unhappiness he felt, that Tony picked up over their connection. It was—

“No, of course not, you idiot.” Ha--yeah, _Loki._ Well, good, then. Loki flopped back on the bed and covered his eyes with a forearm. “Oh, Stark. What we did …” He lifted his arm away and Tony was—well, charmed at the deep blush working its way from the angle of Loki’s jaw. Then his voice hardened, and Tony earned a look of deep irritation. "What _you_ did, what you _said_ \--it was rather an ignominious start to the life of our heir.” Tony didn't hear the emphatic mumble that followed, but he suspected the word "cootch" was in there somewhere. Loki ended it with a snort, then: “Was it not?”

The word “heir” had kind of thrown him, because—yeah—he was going to have a kid, but then he considered the rest of it. So the “bent over the barstool and teased about his girl-parts” did figure into the equation—no real surprise there. Tony hummed and gave Loki a look-over. He shrugged. “Okay, in retrospect? It might have been a better story to tell if we had been on the beach in Tahiti, laid out in an open-air bungalow on a four-poster bed, whispering poetry to each other as we made sweet love on the—”

Loki kicked him, lightly. Tony laughed and pulled back his shin.

“But, damn, I loved it,” Tony breathed, catching Loki’s ankle in his hand. “And you loved it, too.” He tickled the foot in retribution. “You say ‘ignominious,’ but I remember how you looked after.”

Loki rolled his eyes and squirmed away from the tormenting fingers. “Yes, fine—let’s both inflate your ego.”

“It doesn’t need much help right now, honestly.” Tony was still preening about the whole impregnating-a-male-god thing. “If anything, we probably just ensured that our kid is going to have a sense of humor … right?”

“With you as a father, I expect there will be much to laugh about, yes.” Oh, snarky—someone was feeling better. And, yes, someone  _was_  feeling better—the prickles of embarrassment and worry were being soothed over by the warm affection Tony had only just started getting used to.

“Ha, thanks.” Tony slid over Loki’s prone form. “Listen, if it would make you feel better—and this is totally a sacrifice on my part, mind you—I’ll be happy to make sweet, baby-conceiving love to you right now, and this can be the story you tell the girls at the salon.” He got a hand to the face at that, shoving him off, but it was (mostly) benign.

Still: “I accept your terms, Stark,” Loki said, after Tony’s chuckle faded. Then, after a moment, he looked around. “But … on Thor’s bed?” Offered Tony a smirk.

“Ugh, no,” Tony retorted. “Upstairs, now. I’ll grab a copy of ee cummings and some candles. You try to remember how to do the missionary position. And we’ll rewrite history, okay?” Leaned in to kiss Loki on the mouth. “Meet you in ten?”

“You’re ridiculous.” But Loki started picking up the materials around the bed anyway, and Tony felt a burble of anticipation—another feeling he had gotten used to.

“You love me.”

“I ... ,” and that was awkwardness, again, but the sweet hesitation that only made Tony want to hurry him along. “I suppose I do.”

Which Tony knew, because he could feel it. Oh, God, he could  _feel_  it.

“Okay, then,” Tony said, near-unbearably proud of himself, and, after kissing Loki’s mouth a second time, he bent low and pressed his lips to the span of Loki’s abdomen, just under his navel. It was obscured by cloth, but the burst of pleasure from the other told Tony it was appreciated, just the same.

“Ten minutes,” Tony insisted. “Hurry.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, [Runic](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Runic/pseuds/Runic) asked me for more Loki mpreg. Who am I to say no?
> 
> [Find me on tumblr](http://hannahrhen.tumblr.com), fangirling over other people's fic and awkwardly pimping my own.


End file.
